


dancing gracefully (across my memory)

by bevioletskies



Series: fic prompts & drabbles [10]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Late Night Conversations, Mutual Pining, Post-Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Pre-Relationship, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-14 21:38:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16049063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bevioletskies/pseuds/bevioletskies
Summary: “Maybe it’s the atmosphere, the ambiguity, but...I almost feel nostalgic for something that doesn’t really exist.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know what it is, it...it justis.”“Like a memory that isn’t yours?” he asked. “Or is it more of a dream?”“Both...and neither.” She turned to look at him. His breath caught in his throat. “I haven’t dreamed in years. And I don’t have the happy memories that you do, the kind I could look back on with fondness. My life was normal until my - until him.”“Notallhappy.” He said it so quietly, she almost thought she’d misheard him. “Did I ever tell you about this dumb thing I did as a kid? This big,stupidlie I told everyone about my dad so they wouldn’t make fun of me?”(Anonymous fic prompt: Songfic based on the song "Once Upon a December")





	dancing gracefully (across my memory)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place three months after _Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 1_ , though it foreshadows some things from _Vol. 2_. Fic title is, of course, from the song [Once Upon A December](https://open.spotify.com/track/15NNe4V26FOiwagrNb4lbS?si=6sZuxfmWSXSzmc2ytjTs9Q) from _Anastasia_ , as sung by Liz Callaway.

The first time Peter finally convinced Gamora to dance with him - and _truly_ dance with him, not just sway side-to-side like awkward middle-schoolers, though there was still something magical about their moment on Knowhere he would always secretly cherish - was about three months after they became a team. The Guardians were staying in a rundown hotel in the middle of what felt like nowhere, the kind of hotel that had no business calling itself a hotel, but the Milano’s bathroom had a...situation that meant sleeping on-board was not an option. Peter and Gamora were in one room, and Drax, Rocket, and Groot (who was currently about the approximate size of Peter’s foot) were in the other.

Peter’s growing attraction to Gamora was no secret; he made no move to conceal his affections for her, but he knew he had to play it cool, take it slow. She was strong, capable, and could easily kill him with a single strand of hair if she pleased, but she also spooked easily when it came to romantic gestures, and he wasn’t looking to scare her away. Sometimes, there were moments where he felt a little despondent, even considered leaving her be. But other times, she seemed to reciprocate in tiny, but meaningful ways.

On the last night of their hotel stay with just one more day of post-mission cleanup to go, Gamora settled down on the floor of their room at the foot of her bed, twirling her switchblade between her fingers, her eyes fixated on the blank wall opposite her.

“You know we got a TV, right?” Peter emerged from the bathroom, rubbing at his damp hair with a towel.

“Astute observation, Peter,” Gamora replied dryly. She paused momentarily to let her eyes flicker up and down in silent approval at the way Peter’s T-shirts clung to his torso after he got out of the shower. “If you have any other shocking revelations you’d like to make while you’re still sober, do let me know.”

“Man, you’ve got some attitude tonight. I like it,” he declared, pulling out some suspiciously musty-looking beers from the mini-fridge and tossing one her way. She caught it without looking, cracking it open and taking a swig in one fluid motion. He sat beside her. “But seriously, you look kinda zoned out. Somethin’ on your mind?”

“Maybe it’s the atmosphere, the ambiguity, but...I almost feel nostalgic for something that doesn’t really exist.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know what it is, it...it just _is_.”

“Like a memory that isn’t yours?” he asked. “Or is it more of a dream?”

“Both...and neither.” She turned to look at him. His breath caught in his throat. “I haven’t dreamed in years. And I don’t have the happy memories that you do, the kind I could look back on with fondness. My life was normal until my - until him.”

“Not _all_ happy.” He said it so quietly, she almost thought she’d misheard him. “Did I ever tell you about this dumb thing I did as a kid? This big, _stupid_ lie I told everyone about my dad so they wouldn’t make fun of me?”

Gamora’s gaze briefly went to Peter’s beer can, surprised to find he had practically downed it all in one go, almost like he was attempting to get drunk as quickly as possible. His words were beginning to slur, but she couldn’t tell if it was merely from the exhaustion that had settled in his bones. She set her own beer down so she could give him her full attention, head tilting slightly in curiosity. “You’ve never mentioned your father before. Tell me.”

“You know that backpack I leave on the Milano in my bunk, the one with all my Earth stuff in it? It’s the one I took to school with me, every single day. And I used to carry this picture inside it. A picture of a man. But not just _any_ man. David Hasselhoff.” He paused for dramatic effect, though it was lost on Gamora. “Famous guy, drives a talking car, fights crime, y’know. Anyways, I told _anyone_ who would listen that he was my dad.”

“Why did you pick a famous man?” Gamora said dubiously. “That seems...unorthodox.”

“It sounded cool. And it was a good reason for not having a dad around to look after me,” Peter shrugged. “I told everyone he was out of town all the time, shooting his TV show or touring with his band. And kids, I mean, they’re gullible. They bought into it...I think.” He furrowed his brow. “Actually, I’m not sure if they did.”

“Why not just tell the truth?” Gamora pressed, moving in a little closer.

“Because I don’t actually know who my dad is. If he’s even alive, if he’s out there somewhere, if he knows that _I_ exist. And I’d see all these other kids playing with their dads, and I just, I wanted that too. _So_ bad.” He hung his head in shame. “It’s stupid, I know.”

“It’s not stupid,” Gamora reassured him, patting his forearm. “We’ve all done nonsensical things as children. And it doesn’t stop when we grow older. Wanting to believe in something that isn’t real...it might not be rational, but it isn’t stupid, either.”

Peter perked up slightly, a smile beginning to form. “I guess so. Thanks, Gamora.” He placed his hand over hers, squeezing in gratitude. “So tell me about this thing you’re nostalgic for. If you can, I dunno, describe it somehow.”

“Have you ever pictured something so vividly in your mind, something in which you can name every last detail, but you can’t tell if it’s truth or fiction?” Gamora asked. She rotated her wrist slightly so their fingers could interlock together in a loose hold. Peter wasn’t sure if she had meant to do it, but he wasn’t about to pull away.

“I’ve had dreams like that. Stuff about my childhood that I wasn’t sure if I just made up ‘cos it seemed cool, or if it actually happened,” Peter nodded in agreement.

“Right. And so I’ve been having these - I don’t even know if I could call them dreams; I’m not always asleep when they come to me. They’re of me and my parents. The life I lived as a child. I don’t know if it’s real, because they seem real enough, and yet - ”

“What makes you think they aren’t?”

“They felt too perfect.” Gamora’s shoulders fell just a little bit. “A dinner table piled high with food, a warm bed with a mountain of blankets and pillows. A house filled with space, and light, and laughter.” She swallowed. “I should know that it didn’t exist. My planet...we were desperate, cold, hungry. Not just for food, but for reprieve. But something about it felt possible, even though my rational mind tells me no.”

“Then maybe it’s _not_ a memory. Maybe it’s your future,” Peter reasoned. “Or at least, some sorta blend between your past and your future. Like you imagined yourself living your best possible life with your parents, in a big house with all that food and light and...and happiness.”

“That’s an interesting perspective,” Gamora mused, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards in a way that made Peter melt. “I’ve lived under his rule for so long that I forgot what it was like to have dreams of my own. To have a future of my own. Maybe that’s why it confused me so much.”

Peter propped his elbow up against the foot of the bedframe to support himself, leaning in closer, their hands still resting in the increasingly smaller gap between their knees. He was so close, she could name all the colors that danced in his eyes. “Okay, so what if you had to think one up? Your future?”

“You mean right now?” Gamora said, startled.

“If you want,” he shrugged. “I’m too buzzed to sleep right now, I could use a good bedtime story. Or, I dunno, maybe I just wanna put off waking up in the morning and dealing with all this jurisdiction crap. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a Guardian, but this isn’t my favorite part of the job.”

“Then what is? The money, the notoriety?”

“Spending time with all of you,” Peter said simply.

Gamora’s cheeks warmed pleasantly, though she couldn’t bear to voice her reciprocation out loud. Not yet. “I don’t know if my desired future would be any different than what I have right now. Other than maybe reconciling with my sister. To be part of a family again.” She glanced down at her lap for the first time as if she was just realizing she was holding his hand, though she made no move to let go. “And you?”

“Sometimes...I think about going out there and finding my dad. If he’s still alive, that is,” Peter added. “But...I’m pretty happy with the family I ended up with instead.”

Gamora finally released him so she could look away, her face now burning with a sort of glow she was wholly unused to. “We should turn in for the night,” she said reluctantly. “We have an early call in the morning. We need to be alert.”

Peter remained on the floor, watching her get up and cross the room to get into her bed, somewhat disappointed. “Guess so. Night.”

Though he got into his own bed soon after, there was a restlessness in Peter’s entire being that carried on for the next few hours, taking him right into the late night-early morning stretch that felt somewhat surreal, like he was in some strange dimension that didn’t quite exist in the space-time continuum as he knew it. He slipped out of the room to pace up and down the hall for a bit, hoping to wear himself out, but even then, his brain didn’t feel ready to shut off and grant him peace.

“Gamora,” he finally whispered at around 3 AM, crouching by her bedside. She stirred, blinking at him groggily in disbelief.

“Is there an emergency?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

“No, I just...I can’t sleep,” Peter admitted sheepishly. She let out an exasperated sigh. “Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve woken you up, I just don’t really know what to do about it. I guess I’m still thinkin’ about all that stuff we talked about.”

Gamora sighed again, this time far more contemplative. “Let’s go take a walk.”

They took a silent elevator ride down to the ground floor, the unpleasant buzz of artificial light searing through Peter’s head, rattling around in his ears. The lobby was comically small with nothing more than an unattended receptionist’s desk and two beat-up chairs, no extraneous decor, and a few doors. Two of the doors were marked - for storage and for staff, respectively - while the third had no discernible features to speak of. Peter gestured towards it. “Wanna check that out?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Gamora said dismissively. “I was thinking we could go outside and get some fresh air.”

“In _this_ weather? It’s freezing,” Peter protested. “C’mon, Gamora, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I think I’ve had enough ‘adventures’ for a lifetime,” she countered, though she followed him regardless.

The door opened up to a room that neither of them could have possibly anticipated - vast and grand in an old-fashioned sort of way, with a ceiling that stretched high above, opening up the space in stark contrast to the claustrophobic feeling of every other room in the building. Large ceiling-to-floor windows were hidden behind torn drapes, old parquet wooden flooring, and an elevated stage at the far end that looked like it had seen better days. Dust particles swirled about at the disturbance of the air, tickling their noses. Clearly, no one, not even the janitorial staff (Peter was starting to question if there _was_ any), had stepped foot in here in a long time.

“Must be an old conference room or something,” Peter said, strolling in easily like he owned the place, his voice echoing off the walls. “I bet it looked pretty cool in its heyday.”

Gamora was more cautious, taking light-footed steps, her gaze traveling across the room. There wasn’t much to look at with no furniture or decorations, but at the same time, she could see what he meant. “Conferences, you said?”

“Yeah. Or events, like auctions...or dances!” He brightened. “Gamora - ”

“Peter,” she warned. Already, she could see him reaching for his Walkman, this time tucked in the pocket of his hoodie instead of his usual belt hook. “We shouldn’t be in here in the first place.”

“Just one song?” he pleaded. “I always said I was gonna get you to dance with me for real someday. And this seems like _just_ the time and place to do it.”

With a defeated sigh, she allowed him to take her hands in his and lead her to the middle of the enormous room. “Only if it will get you to stop asking. Don’t expect this to be a regular occurrence.”

The song started off soft, sweet, like all the other songs Peter liked to play for her when they were alone. Over the past few months, while they got to know each other, they would often share quiet moments like this, usually unintentionally. They would run into each other in the kitchen during the early mornings while everyone else was still asleep, or work late into the night on finances and logistics with a whole pot of cold coffee and Sam Cooke crooning in the background to keep them going.

Though Gamora had a tendency to roll her eyes and scold Peter for trying to distract her with music and odd jokes, she found herself deeply enjoying his company. There was a fearlessness in him that she admired, a real comfort in his presence. And yes, she knew he was interested in her, and...maybe, just maybe, she was interested too. But sometimes she worried that Peter was the kind of person who enjoyed the thrilling nature of “almost” and found monotony in absolutes, the kind who would grow bored of being in a relationship with all the other possibilities that were out there. His intentions towards her seemed genuine, but her mind often wandered back to the Kyln, where he had rattled off the injuries he’d acquired from past flings like it was his grocery list. She wasn’t looking to be the latest in a long line of women scorned. Her heart had been broken far too many times before, she didn’t need to add romantic entanglement to her devastation.

“You’re thinkin’ pretty hard for the two-step,” Peter commented, bringing her out of her reverie. Gamora barely noticed they had started moving, with her hands on his shoulders, and his at the small of her back. His face was closer than ever before, sleepy and sweet and handsome all the same, not that she would ever say so out loud.

“I still don’t dance,” she said coolly.

He merely laughed. “So what do you think you’re doing right now? We could even try something like - ” Without warning, he spun her out slowly, guiding her with his fingers spanning her back, keeping her steady. He brought her back in with far less finesse, causing her to trip slightly over her own feet. She stumbled right into his chest, their noses mere inches away from each other. “Hi.”

“I’m not sure I liked that,” Gamora said breathlessly, her hands coming to rest on his front. Even though she had seen him without a shirt before - and _that_ had certainly been an experience - she was always surprised at how firm he felt beneath her fingers. She turned her gaze elsewhere before she could do anything she might regret.

“Sorry,” he said, chuckling. His arms wound tighter around her waist, pulling her flush against him. “This is okay though, right?”

She looked back at him. “What is?”

“Y’know this...this thing we’re doing.” His expression grew impossibly soft. “And I don’t mean the Guardians, I don’t just mean the dancing, I mean like...you and me.”

Gamora’s heart stuttered. “I think the lack of sleep is getting to you, Peter. You’re making even less sense than usual.”

Peter tilted his head back slightly, taking in her expression. He smiled. “Alright, alright. Guess we can talk about it another time.” She nodded silently, gratefully.

The song came to its gentle end, and just like that, the haziness of early morning delirium wore away, the spell was broken. They wordlessly made their way back to the lobby and into the elevator. The ride back to their room was far tenser than their ride down, Peter keeping himself tucked in a corner, hands folded neatly in his lap. Gamora began to wonder if she should have said something after all, but it made everything feel far too real, and she wasn’t ready yet. Maybe someday.

Once they returned to the room, Gamora went to use the bathroom, expecting Peter to be in bed by the time she came out. Instead, she found him sitting on the floor again, instead by the patio door with the curtains thrown open, staring outside in awe. “Peter?”

“It’s snowing,” he whispered. She sank down beside him, watching the stark white snowflakes float through the dark violet sky. If it wasn’t for her distaste for this particular planet, she would almost think it was beautiful. “When I see stuff like this, I always think about takin’ a picture so my mom can see. Then I remember.”

“I have moments like that, too. Memories I want to share with my parents. Memories that I wish existed.” She reached over to squeeze his hand again, and this time, he knew she meant it. “Maybe my ‘dreams’ are about making new memories instead of dwelling on the ones that could have been. Reminding me that as much as I miss my family...I need to make the most of every moment I have with my new one.”

Peter squeezed back, hopeful. “I like the sound of that.”

It didn’t take long for them to fall asleep soon after. When morning came, the other Guardians barged into their room only to find them curled up on the floor together, looking both exhausted and utterly peaceful. They were tempted to take pictures to show them and laugh about it later, but something told them that Peter and Gamora didn’t need to know. Not yet, at least. They could talk about it another time.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've written pre- _Vol. 2_ fic which was an interesting experience - one of my favorite things about Gamora's character growth is the way her vocabulary patterns and cadence evolves over time, from "I am not some starry-eyed waif here to succumb to your pelvic sorcery!" to "It's a distress signal, Rocket, someone could be _dying_!". I had to dial it back in time a little further than I usually do!
> 
> I purposefully left out the song that they danced to, because I'm a bit of a stickler for accuracy, and Peter was abducted in 1988 while Once Upon A December didn't come out until 1997, so I kept it ambiguous. Fill in the gap with whatever song you'd like! I also wasn't sure about what the prompt was calling for since it was a little vague - an Anastasia AU, maybe? - so I took a more thematic route instead. I hope that worked for you, lovely anon!
> 
> You can read this fic on [tumblr](http://bevioletskies.tumblr.com/post/178328250164/starmora-movieverse-prompt-songfic-based-on-the) if you'd like, and I currently take Peter/Gamora and Scott/Hope fic prompts, including those for my own fic 'verses, [twenty questions](https://archiveofourown.org/series/823920) and [everybody wants to rule the world](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12841176). Next week is part one of my newest Starmora AU, and I'll likely fill another one or two prompts in October! Thank you so much for reading, comments and kudos would be much appreciated, and I hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
